The Fight
by bookworm1818
Summary: Just after finishing reading a journal from 1947, Castle gets a call from Beckett asking him to meet her at her apartment. There, they have their worst fight yet. Coffesions are made, but this time, they don't know if they'll ever recover. 4x14 two-shot.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This is what happens when I have severe writers block while trying to write Marchin On! Don't forget to review! By the way, Rosalie is Beckett's character in The Blue Butterfly. I didn't think a name had been released for her yet, so I chose that one! Chapter 1 is 1947, Chapter 2 may or may not come, but if it does, will be present time.

* * *

><p>It really is a tragic story, really.<p>

It wasn't preventable, either. Unless, of course, he'd never met her. But he'd rather have those four days with her and endure the pain of loss the rest of his life instead of never having known her at all.

Joe always knew he would have to tell her. He couldn't keep running around pretending to be an enforcer for the mob anymore. He was a PI, and she was still a suspect. A suspect snuggled up against him, sleeping in his bed, unaware that he is awake.

No matter how he tried, he couldn't get Rosalie out of his mind. Her red lips and shoulder-length, curled hair. Green, intelligent eyes unafraid to look into his. Her slender frame and the elegant aura. A charming and confident young woman, perfectly capable of making her way through this world, yet still maintaining some child-like innocence.

He looks down at her, careful not to move her. Tan, weathered skin shines in the moonlight, and messy ringlets of hair are scattered around her face. Her face is completely peaceful and at ease. He hates to ruin that, but she has to know the truth.

And so, with great difficulty, Joe leans down and kisses her on the lips. Soft and gentle, with no need to rush. She moans and burries her face further into his shoulder.

"Rose?" He asks gently.

"Mmm?" She responds groggily.

He says nothing, instead listening to the comforting rumbling of a train passing by. He's always loved the sound, and so, when it came to finding an apartment, he chose one by the railroad tracks. Once the train is gone, he knows he cannot postpone this any longer. He looks down at her yet again, expecting her to be asleep, but instead, she is looking up at him, staring at him intently.

A look of shame passes over his face. She sees this, and sensing his discomfort, props herself up on one elbow to confront him.

"Hey." She smiles, trying to lighten the mood. He sees dread clouding the corners of her eyes.

"Hey." He whispers back. His voice is quieter than hers, less confident. After all, he's the one with something to hide.

"Is everything all right?" She asks tentatively. Joe tries to find the kindest way to break it to her. He lies there, contemplating, and she waits. Always trusting.

"I'm not a gangster." He replies solemnly, bracing himself.

"I know." She repeats calmly, tracing the veins along the inside of his arm. This takes him by surprise, but he quickly accepts it. She seems calm, but he knows she won't be for long. He's never been part of a gang, but he knows what they do to law enforcement. And he knows they do even worse to those who let a spying PI walk away alive. Furthermore, he knows that they do even worse than that to someone who deserts, especially if it's to run away with a known spying PI.

"I'm a private investigator." He feels her freeze. Whatever she expected, this was not it. Before he can offer a further explanation, she has jumped off the bed and is digging in her shoe. He knows what she is looking for, but makes no move to protect himself, but instead sits up and leans against the headboard of the bed.

She pulls out the gun, pointing it at him, her hand trembling.

"You're a PI?" She asks, disbelief and betrayal infiltrating her voice.

"Yes." He whispers. He can't look at her.

"How could you?" Her voice is weak. He says nothing. "Do you know what I have to do to you?" Her voice as increased in volume dramatically, to the point where she is shrieking at him.

"Yes." He admits. This time it's her turn to be surprised. She continues to point the gun at him, not saying anything. For the first time since they started this conversation, he looks at her. Tears are sliding down her face, and he can see the battle raging behind those deep eyes. He has just admitted to being an undercover PI in her gang. It's her duty to execute him.

It's her duty to execute the man that she declared her love to only hours before.

Carefully, she places her finger on the trigger. Her finger tenses, and he waits, expecting the shot, but it never comes. Instead, with shaking hands, she sets the gun down carefully on the nightstand and begins pulling her clothes back on. When she's completely dressed again in her maroon, strapless dress, she reaches for her purse and the gun.

"I can't." She chokes out.

"You have to. They'll kill you if they find out." His voice is calm. He's willing to die for her, the woman he met only days ago.

He is willing to be shot and killed by the woman he declared his love to only hours before.

"I..If they f-find out about w-what?" She chokes out yet again. "N-Nothing happened."

Her words course through him, freezing his blood. Nothing happened. Everything is back to normal. But it never will be, for either of them. He knows this.

"Good bye, Rosalie." He whispers, his voice raw with emotion. She steps once towards the door, but then turns and walks to him, kissing him once on the cheek. He brings one hand to her cheek, his thumb massaging the side of her neck.

"Bye, Joe." She whispers. He watches as she pulls away, turns, and walks to the door. With one last glance over her shoulder, she opens the door and leaves.

That night, he cries. He mourns the loss of their relationship, yet treasures the preservation of their love. A forbidden love. It's a tragedy.

He gives up the case and refunds the money to his client. He leaves New York, never to return. He gives up his job as a PI, instead performing small jobs when he needs the money, but spends the rest of his days drinking into nothingness at some old bar.

He never sees her again.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Ok... so while procrastinating doing my Calculus homework I was watching Castle fan vids. I then saw one with the 3x24 fight scene, and instantly felt a dire need to write this. So... tomorrow I will be falling asleep in Calculus, but hey, I'll have this posted and done and my homework complete!

ALSO, PLEASE NOTE: This Chapter of the fic is mostly dialogue based. Normally, I try to go in depth with the character's thoughts, but not this time! Also, I never really write anything very romantic. I like to focus on action and angst, so this is something very new!

Don't forget to review! I'm not very good at ending my stories, so let me know what you think!

* * *

><p>Castle sets down the diary. It's not the ending he wanted, nor expected. So Joe and Rosalie didn't get their happy ending. He can deal with that. He handles murder on a daily basis, then writes about it, so he knows he doesn't need that happy ending. But that's not what's bothering him.<p>

It's the secrets.

Why weren't they just honest from the start? It would have saved them so much heartbreak. He's grumbling to himself about Joe's lack of honesty when he freezes. He's never liked hypocrites, and refuses to be one. He stares at his cell phone, which lays on the lamp table next to the sofa. Just one phone call and those secrets are gone. One phone call and he will never see her again.

But he doesn't call. The next day, when she calls him that they have a new case, he tells her he doesn't feel well, and is going to sit this one out. He spends the entire day at home, staring at his phone.

Just one phone call.

But he doesn't have to call her. She calls instead at 9:07 pm.

"Castle." He answers.

"Castle! I think I might have a lead on my mom's case! Meet me at my apartment in ten minutes!" She orders. He wants to kick himself. Where had she gotten this lead? He should have gone in today, to keep her off this case. His only job that he cares about right now is to keep her safe and away from her mom's case. Why, of all days, did it have to be toady she finds that lead?

"Uh... Yeah, Yeah. I'll be there." He hangs up.

Raindrops patter against the window, and he counts them, waiting for them to reach the bottom of the window. They're racing. He sits there, watching the raindrops as the slide down the glass, watching to see which one reaches the finish line first.

After some time, when he is as ready as he'll ever be, he sits up and leaves.

* * *

><p>When Castle knocks on the front door, Kate swings it open almost immediately, as though she had been waiting for him. Without a word, he steps inside and she closes the door behind him. They glance at each other, never looking the other in the eyes. It's a type of acknowledgment without having to convey the full truth.<p>

She walks back to the coffee table sitting in front of her couch, where a large stack of files sit. He follows, hesitantly. This would be so much easier if the friend of Montgomery's had told him what to keep her away from.

"I was working a similar case today, when I realized a problem in the report on the warehouse fire." She explains eagerly. "I had to stop by the courthouse to get a few more reports, but I think I can find out who lit that fire." She explains eagerly. She grabs the file sitting on the top of the stack, and is about to open it when he slams his hand down on it, forcing it closed.

"Don't." His words are hard, yet vulnerable and pleading.

"Castle, I have a new lead." She protests, as though he doesn't understand the situation.

"I know." His voice is calm and even. Kate's eyebrows furrow slightly, as she tries to understand what he means.

"Castle, what's going on?" She stands up so that she can look him in the eye. Her face already holds betrayal, and he can see all those months of progress they have made slowly fading from her memory.

"You can't work on this case anymore." He stares back into her eyes, returning the pressure.

"Why not Castle?" The suspicion in her voice is increasing.

"I just... I just know." It's a pathetic attempt, and he knows it, but his mind has gone blank, leaving him with no way to stop her without revealing his secret.

"Know what?"

"Kate." He looks at her, his face a mask of fear and sorrow. "You are alive by chance. Maybe there was just a bit more of a breeze that day. Maybe the ground by the sniper was slightly uneven. Maybe his finger trembled just a bit against the rifle. Whatever it is, you weren't supposed to live. And next time you dig, the next time you find a new lead, they're going to shoot you again. But this time, they won't miss!" His voice is increasing in volume. All these things he has wanted to scream at her from the very start of this mess, and now, finally, they are free. "And if you don't believe me, ask Josh or your Dad. Ask the people that saw those x-rays and know what that bullet almost did to you, because you don't! I don't know if you can't see it, or if you don't want to, but playing the oblivious human isn't going to work anymore! You can't keep temping death, Kate. Because believe me, you will lose! I saw you lose that battle! I saw you die in the ambulance, Kate! You might not be able to see it, but I can! And I'm not going to lose you again!"

The last bit wasn't supposed to escape, and he sees its affect immediately. They're fighting about feelings again, and that leaves her flustered, acting like a turtle on the verge of slipping back into its shell. However, she recovers quickly.

"Get. Out." Her voice is eerily calm. She glares at him, waiting.

He doesn't move; he holds his ground.

"Damn it, Castle! Get out!" She shouts at him.

"No." He refuses firmly. "Because if I walk out those doors, I won't see you for another three months. Or a summer. Or a year. Or ten years. Or never again!" His anger is only increasing, and the rage and frustration that he has held back all this time is struggling free. "And I'll spend the rest of my life wondering what would have happened if I stood my ground!"

"It doesn't matter, Castle!" She spits. "We're over!"

"You said that the last time you had to hide! I hate it! I hate all the hiding! I mention this case, and you run away! How am I supposed to know where you stand if you never stay in one place long enough? Do you know what it feels like, Kate? Do you know what kind of hell I went through during those three months? It was like I never left that fucking waiting room!" His rage is out of his control now. This is not how he hoped things would go, but there's no changing that now. What is said is said.

"Don't you give me that shit, Richard Castle! My Captain had just been shot dead! I had been shot and died listening to you telling me you love me! So of course I had to hide, Rick! I had to!" Her voice holds a tone of disbelief, as if she never imagined he'd yell at her like this.

"You knew?" It catches him off guard. Sure, he had speculated, but never had he really considered it a possibility. It's his turn to let the betrayal show.

"Rick, no! I-" She starts. A look of fear is spread across her face, and her tone is on the verge of pleading. He knows she hadn't meant to say it. Maybe she had never intended to ever tell him. But the hurt turns to anger quickly, and the shouting match has resumed.

"That's why you came back after those three months, isn't it? None of it mattered. You came back when you needed those files, Kate! Those fucking files that drag you down and trap you in your mother's murder!"

"Rick, this is my life, and this is my mom's murder! I have the right to want to see any evidence that could be related to the case!" She insists angrily.

"It doesn't matter! You look at that case again, and they'll kill you, Kate! You'll die standing in front of me, and once again, I'll hold you in my arms as life bleeds out of you! And I don't want to do that again! Kate, I can't do that again!" His voice starts out dedicated and strong, but quickly dwindles down to a quiet, sorrowful boy. He lowers himself down so that he is sitting on the couch, hiding his face in his hands. She senses his despair, because she too lets go of some of that rage, and sits next to him on the couch. She refuses to touch him, but while he stares ahead, she looks at him. Perhaps his pitiful appearance and fragile emotions win her over, because when she speaks again, her tone is calmer, gentler.

"Rick, I didn't come back after those three months just for some files." She explains. He doesn't look at her. Sensing that he still doesn't believe her, she continues. "I couldn't handle it. I needed your help." When she finally admits this, she sits up a bit straighter, as though relieved of a large weight.

Kate Beckett is the proudest woman he has ever met. And so, when she admits that she needed help, he can't help but stare at her, wide eyed. He didn't think he could love her any more than he did, but, now, he knows better.

"You can't go back." Her confession has changed the way he sees her. Suddenly, none of it matters. How she betray him; the hurt. All he can think about is her safety. "They'll kill you."

"You don't know that." She starts, not willing to back down. He responds in the only way he can. He looks her in the eye. If he's going to lose her, this is when it will happen.

"I do." He insists. He takes a deep breath. "Days after you returned to the precinct, I got a phone call from a friend of Roy's. He said that Roy had sent him some files that could hurt some powerful people if they go out. He said that because of these files, you were safe as long as you didn't investigate this case anymore." She opens her mouth to interrupt, but he holds up one index finger, stopping her. She eyes him suspiciously. "He called me again when we were investigating Mayor Weldon. That conspiracy against him? It's real. They're also the people behind your mom's murder." She stares at him, mouth agape. He can see her mind whirling as she tries to sort through all of the information he just gave her and form an opinion.

"Why didn't you tell me?" She asks angrily.

"Because you would have ignored the danger and hunted these people down with more determination than you ever have before." He insists, looking down at his feet. She stares ahead blankly, just nodding thoughtfully.

"Rick, I can handle this." It's just a whisper.

"I know you can, but I can't. I can't do it anymore." He looks her in the eyes, hoping she can see his honesty. "Please." He whispers. "Return the files tomorrow. Don't read them. I promise, we'll make these guys pay, just not today." He pleads. She stares him in the eyes, and smiles sadly.

"I can't do that."

"You can."

"No, you don't understand. I can't let her down." Her mother. Those wounds still hurt, and he knows it.

"Kate, she's gone. It's your life, not hers." She moves to protest, but he raises his voice and talks over her. "I'm not saying that she doesn't deserve justice, but she wouldn't want you to throw your life away because you're so focused on getting your revenge."

"Rick, I don't know how to... how to let go. Do you have any idea how hard it is? Wanting more, wanting better, but not being able to let myself have that? I want to work this out... I just... I can't. I can't." Kate whispers. She looks down, her hair hiding her face. After a moment, she covers her hand with her face. She's crying.

Richard Castle has done a lot of brave things in his lifetime. He got his first piece of writing published in high school, when even best friends would do terrible things to one another. He wrote his first novel while in college, then allowed the entire public to read it and review. He raised his baby girl all own his own, and when the time came, courageously faced all of the challenges that came with that. Drama, boys, sex and drug talks, bullies, friendship, mood swings, secrets, and fighting. He then proceeded to face the horrors of having his mother live with him (though perhaps he exaggerated the horrors of that experience just a bit). Soon after that, he began shadowing Kate. He'd faced a lot. Serial killers, obsessed fans, professional killers, fistfights, bombs, death, and being held hostage in a bank. Not to mention his relationship with Kate, whatever they were. They'd had their own ups and downs-and a hell of a lot of danger- to deal with.

But, despite all of those things he had done that required great courage, perhaps the most frightening was the moment that he leaned forward, pulled Kate Beckett's hand from her face, leaned in, and kissed her gently on the lips.

She pulls away.

"Rick..." She starts, her tone somewhat frightened. He refuses to look at her, knowing the speech that will follow. But she proves him wrong. "Be honest. Do you think we'll ever get them?"

"No. No, I don't." He admits grimly. She bites her lip and nods thoughtfully. "But we will try again, someday." He promises.

He's not sure why that statement means so much to her. But, it is difficult for him to think when Kate Beckett is flinging her arms around his neck and kissing him back.

* * *

><p>A streak of light runs along the carpet from the slight opening in the curtains, which allows some city lights to sneak into the dark bedroom. Rick lays on the large bed in the center, with Kate Beckett asleep against his side. He can barely see her, but that makes her all the more beautiful. Thick, gently waving brown hair covers her neck and shoulders, and one lock rests over her eyes. Her eyes are closed, and her face is completely relaxed. She has never looked so peaceful. Shadows dance under her long eyelashes and lay softly against her cheek. Much to Castle's amusement, her nose twitches every couple of seconds, and he makes a mental note to use it against her the first chance he gets. She sleeps with her head on his shoulder and one arm over his chest, the other curled up at her side.<p>

He's the happiest he has been in a long time. He doesn't want to ruin that. But right now, he has no secrets. He knows they'll have their share of problems, but he isn't as concerned as he thought they'd be. He knows they can get through it.

"I love you, Kate." He whispers to her, just because he can finally say it out loud. At one point, she must have woken up, because she responds groggily as she snuggles even closer to him.

"I love you, too."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Well... what do you guys think? What about the ending? Too fluffy? Too boring? Too... I don't know... simple? Let me know!


End file.
